Home: Where Your Ghost Is
by Taishu Tsukitai
Summary: A semi AU BatouKusanagi oneshot. Kusanagi can’t stand life without being, and Batou can’t stand being without Kusanagi. Will Kusanagi’s angst take them both over the edge?


_Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from Ghost In The Shell, including, but not limited to, 'Kusanagi', 'Togusa', or'Batou'. I also do not own 'Section 9'. Generally, I just don't own anything in this story, save for the plot._

_I walk the beach slowly, my eyes... no, not mine. Let me start over._

_I walk the... Well, beach is really starting to stretch it, I guess._

_I walk... but wait, can I even call this MY walking?_

_The government's legs take me across the sandy-colored rug inside the dark corridor of the section 9-owned apartment complex. The optical implants (given me by the government) scan the area with a familiar, eerie motion that to this day I am not comfortable with. I'm not comfortable with a lot of things about myself, or what I guess could be called myself, if any part of it still belonged to me._

_At least I kept my appearance. And my good humor._

_And Motoko._

She was never quite as alright with saying these things as I was... always wanted to own herself, ghost and shell. But she knew that she couldn't have both, and so... I don't know. Somewhere along the line, I'd like to think that she just accepted it, like I have, but in a different way. But no. I know it all. Somewhere along the line, the Major broke. Not a physical breaking, albeit she's done that, too, many times. I'm talking about her ghost. Somewhere, her ghost broke.

The pub that we were all in was a damp place, with restaurant seats and lighting that accentuated everyone's features, especially Motoko's. My artificial olfactory bulb burned from the heavy hops and smoke... of gun and of cigar. Togusa wasn't being very simpathetic to myself or Motoko, eating as much as he could, as slowly as he could. Plus, due to some idiotic bladder problem, he kept going to the bathroom the next building over. I can relate, really; I used to have those kinda problems, back when I had a bladder of my own. I figure I'm better off without it. Motoko just kept watching him eat and go wiz and all as if he were intentionally doing it to spite her. I thought she was gonna kill him, honestly. No joke. He started to piss me off a little, too, when he started to have a blinking fit. Doesn't know how lucky he is. Of course, he still has bladder problems. I don't. So we're even. Plus, in the end, he's still got time left to get an arm blown off, or his eyes gouged out.

On one of Togusa's longer piss-pauses, Motoko turned to me from across the table. Now, I'm usually not too keen on shells; I think they tend to be pretty deceptive, especially through my weak optical implants. However, I had to admit that, if I had cared about shells, I'd be salivating then. Well... no, I wouldn't. The government Amylase Glands would have kicked in, but from Togusa's meat, not the Major's shell. Still, she looked pretty incredible in her attire. Black threads all over. Jeans. First time in a long time I've seen her wear jeans. And a jacket-shirt. Jean material, too. Hadn't bothered with a bra, she rarely does. But then, why? Just slows her down. And it's not like the girls sagged at all. They had a warranty safer than section nine during war-time.

"Batou," She said... well, the mouth... no, yeah, she said this. "What am I? To you, I mean."

At first, I really didn't know how to answer. Not because I didn't know; because I knew it could never really work. And because my mind doesn't work like that. Too innocent.

"You?" I said, sighing deep, passing my ponytail between the calloused artificial skin of my hand. "Something special. All I can really say. You're something special." I concluded.

"Am I?" She replied tonelessly. I couldn't even tell that it was an actual question until I realized that she was getting edgy from waiting.

"Yeah. Or maybe... I should rephrase that; someone special. Someone." I smiled, a little embarrassed, but the damage was done. I cringed a little, my face uneasy. At least... no, it was MY face at this point.

"Don't worry, I wasn't too offended. Besides, at least it wasn't Togusa that said it." She said slowly. I smiled, winked, and relaxed, my sin absolved.

"Hey, I'm glad you're okay with it. Besides, who am I to say it? I'm as metal as you." I shrugged and slumped into the back of my restaurant-style seat.

"Who are you at all, Batou, hm?" The Major asked, a smiled playing at her crimson lips. "I think you're less than you think you are."

I shrugged. "Could well be." With that, Togusa returned, a small wet dot appearing at the crotch-line of his suit-pants. I stifled a laugh. Badly.

"Sorry about this, guys." He said, sitting down and sliding into the booth. Finding a comfortable place next to Motoko, he returned to the half-downed Tsingtao in front of him and the Pemican spiced jerky besides it. "So, uh... how about that Koji guy, huh? Illegal parts, illegal guns, illegal drugs... the guy was just an illegal pile, huh?"

I smirked. Out of habit, really. "No more illegal than us. But we have warrants." I said smugly. Motoko's bland expression had returned by now, but broke, just for a second, to appreciate the irony that I had just presented. Togusa shrugged, missing it entirely. He would, I guess.

"Still... took a lot of munitions to get him down. Just getting his mechanical arm off took a bazooka and a cannon." Togusa said, taking in his beer and going into a coughing fit.

Motoko looked at me with a stare that almost screamed to me that she wished she could remember the last time she did that.

"Yes." I said, thinking of grabbing a cigarette... for the look, at least. And for the comfort of holding something. "...But no one got killed off. And we're all in good health, right, Motoko?" I glanced to her, my eyebrow raised slightly.

"We two haven't been in any sort of health in years." She said monotonously to me before returning her eyes to the oaken table. Togusa, trying to avoid our more serious, intellectual talk, ripped off some flesh from his meat-stick and chewed it thoughtfully. Motoko gave me that look again. I shrugged.

Taking another bite of his food and swallowing the rest of his beer, Togusa looked to his silver watch before taking a deep breath and letting it out... slowly. I could see Motoko breaking as she watched him. I said nothing, though; not my business, in the end.

"Well, guys, we got work tomorrow. Seiko the Skinner's out. Not much of a problem for you, seeing as you can get new skin, but I'll tell ya', my windows are shut tonight. It's late; I have to go." He stood, his sinews and muscles creaking. Motoko never took her eyes off of him. "Either of you need a ride?" He called, halfway to the open door.

I shook my head. "I don't have a TV at my place and there's a story on that I don't want to miss." I lied, glancing to the silent plasma-screen mounted to the wall. Motoko shrugged.

"I'll stay with Batou." She said, very sure of her decision. Togusa shrugged and left.

Motoko became so much less tense upon his exit that she fell in a lump onto the floor of her seat.

"Uch... why did I let you talk me into this?" She said, keeping on an 'A Flat' the entire time.

"Because I'm so good looking?" I suggested with a grin. She looked back at me and scanned, sizing me up. Then she smiled back. It was pained smile; I didn't like it.

"So what? It's a shell. And you... you have more than just that. You have a great soul inside of you. Me? I barely even have that. I lost it when I killed my first man."

I sighed deeply, finally coming into the urge to take out my cigarette. Motoko stared at me for a second before nodding. I passed her one and then returned the pack to my grey trench-coat pocket. Retrieving the lighter, fumbling not at all, I preceded to light both of them, the one in my mouth, and the one that was carelessly shaking in Motoko's fingers.

"You're so tense tonight, Major." I said, puffing out a ring. Too perfect to be natural.

"Motoko. None of that major... stuff." Motoko said, shyly. Never a good sign, with her. "I wish I could still be affected by beer. Else I'd order a Tsingtao or two myself. Forget that I'm a killer."

I could almost see her tears already.

"It's not that, is it?" I said, carefully pulling up next to her. Friendly-like. "I'll admit, I've killed, and it's bad, but that's not it. You're just not yourself lately."

"I'm never myself, Batou!" She said with relative volume. First emotion I'd heard in her all night. "I'm always this... this thing, this plastic and metal conglomeration. Nothing more."

"That's not true, Motoko," I said quickly. "You're so much more than what you think." I could feel my palms sweat. Of all the times for that body-function chip to work, this was not the one I woulda picked.

Motoko picked up on it quickly. "I'm blushing, you just can't see it." She murmured with a timid assurance, and a slight smirk. Then, her face changed, looking away from me and into herself. "I'm going to die tonight, Batou."

She'd said this many times before, so I wasn't too apprehensive. "Come on. You're never serious about it. So stop saying it. Creeps me out."

"I'm serious this time. I'm going to die tonight because I'm going to kill myself tonight." She said, puffing deeply on her smoke. "I can't take it. I'm not a woman. I'm not a human. I'm barely alive. I don't own even the smallest portion of myself." She was crying softly now, her slight, almost non-existent smile never fading. Only then did I realize that she was resting, motionless, on my shoulder.

"Motoko, calm down." I whispered, petting her short hair with my digits, then my palms.

"Don't, Batou. Not now." She whispered back, pulling away from me, and looking at me where my eyes should have been. "I want to die. I don't want you to convince me otherwise. So don't."

With that, she rose and started for the door, her head down and eyes shut hard. I watched her leave, but quickly got my senses back after her back became lost to me. I slapped some credits on the table and shot out the door, my ponytail billowing in what had become a very wet wind since we had entered the pub not three hours ago. I looked back and forth, only to find Motoko's clothing on the ground.

"Damn. She went invisible on me!" I exclaimed softly. Still, you can't hide water, and I saw her back turn around a corner, water flowing off of it and curving around her soft, fragile body. I followed her as silently as I could, but she apparently heard me; she started to run. I followed after her at a sprint, but slipped at one point and slammed into the ground, cramming my cigarette into my throat. Instinctively, I swallowed it. It probably got lost somewhere in my circuits. Went out somewhere. I don't run on oil, so it didn't make me explode, but I tell you, it burned going down before stopping where my artificial nerves did. Getting up drenched, I ran after her form for a while. How long, I'm not sure. Probably a good three miles. I don't know. It was enough to make me recognize the area for some reason. I watched as Motoko's shell fell away into a tall concrete building. It took a minute to register my luck; it was my apartment complex.

Following the footsteps to the dusty, seldom-used steps, I started my way up, thinking only one thing; I didn't want to lose her. And then I realized something else; I was in love.

Not a healthy thing. But killing yourself wasn't healthy either.

Seventy-three. That's how many flights I had to climb to get tp the roof, where Motoko's form, revealed to the sky, awaited my optical implants.

"Motoko!" I screamed. Coming closer now, I saw that she held in her hand an electro-magnet; that would get rid of her for good. Erase her mind. The seventy-three foot fall would kill the shell. She turned then to look at me, her eyes ter-filled, even through the rain. Her pale, naked body stood there trembling and sopping wet. She looked like a mannequin. Of course, I said nothing; that particular comment would have sent her over the edge.

"This is a mistake, Motoko." I said slowly, approaching with the same speed. "You don't want to do this."

"How the hell do you know what I want, Batou?" She screamed at me. "I don't even know what the hell I want! Except for one thing. I want to die. I don't want to think, I don't want to feel, I want to die, Batou. I want to die..."

Collapsing onto her knees, Motoko grabbed my legs. "Please... please don't do this, Batou, I want to die. I can't feel, I can't live, I'm nothing. Let me die. I wouldn't burden you with the task, I just want to die."

I kneeled down, which made Motoko move back a little to send her toes over the edge of the building. She retracted them quickly. That was a good sign.

"Motoko, please. You can't give up." I said in desperation.

"I already have, Batou." She yelled softly. "But you don't have to. You have a ghost that you can follow well. And I don't. I don't have anything..."

"You have me!" I blurted without any thought at all. But I didn't regret it. Instead, I repeated it, my hands on her bare shoulders. "You have me, Motoko. Please... just...don't..."

Motoko fell on top of me then. Clutching me tightly and sending us both to the ground mere inches from the edge of the skyscraper. Her warm tears fell into me and I took them in willingly. "I hate you, Batou! I hate you because there's no way in hell that I can hate you. Do you know why I want to die? Because I can't have you! Ever! I can't feel you with my own flesh. I can't see you with my own eyes. I can't even hear your voice with my own ears. Hell, I don't even know if what I'm hearing is your own voice. We're both fake and I want to die because we... as people... can never be together."

I rolled slightly, the rain making my hair mat slightly and fall to my back, It made her fair pelt fall in front of her eyes. I wiped it behind her ears with a steady finger as she trembled against me.

"It's not true, and we both know it. I don't love this shell you have, Motoko. I don't love your skin, I don't love your eyes, I don't love your ears." I was crying too, now. Didn't know I could do that, to be honest. "If you die, I'm going to die. You kill yourself and you're going to kill me." It was a stupid, last-ditch effort, because her eyes were wandering back to the edge... but the more I considered it, the more true it became. "I'm not going to live without you. No way. And that's how I know you don't want to die. Because you think that you have to touch me, see me, hear me, to make me real. Because that's the standard you have for yourself. But drop that. Because we're both real. I think." I was really in deep now. No way to go back. Get it out there, Batou, get it to her. It still might be your last chance. "But I can't be real without you. I... I love you, Motoko. I love you."

No time passed before I found that Motoko's arms were firmly latched around me, her face nuzzled into my chest. "Take me home, Batou. Please. I... I don't want to die. I want to go home."

Slowly, we stood, taking one last look to the busy streets below. Motoko was still slumped comfortably against my shoulder, and I was just awake enough to keep her standing with me. But soon, we were at the steps, walking down slowly. After a point, Motoko spoke up shyly.

"Isn't this your floor?"

Finally, I understood what she meant. Walking through the tawny-floored hallways of my complex, we approached my room. I hadn't bothered to close the door on my way out, so it was still open. "Here we are." I said, looking at her for approval to enter. She just pressed up against me and lead me in. Tears of joy ran down her face. I didn't know she could do that. Maybe it was just the aftershock of the whole thing. Her next words, though, finally brought us both to where we belonged.

"I...I'm home."

The next morning, I woke with Motoko's warm, naked body against mine. I attempted to get out of my fold-out bed with the tacky flower-print covers, but Motoko, slightly awake for my movement, held me back.

"It's Saturday. You're not going anywhere." I smiled gently and turned to her, running her hair through my hands and pulling her close... but not before she aggressively started it.

We didn't need food or water or anything. And so, we didn't let go of each other for two days and two nights, until we both went into the office Monday morning. Togusa was waiting. We neglected him entirely. So what if he can eat and drink and pee. We don't care anymore. He's incomplete. And we're alive.

_I continue to the door and knock. It opens slowly; unlocked. She's here, I know it. Sure enough, it only takes a look around to affirm that she's here. After all, she's in bed already, reading a book. A smile laces her lips._

"_Batou... you're late." She says, in a voice that almost begs for me to come to bed with her. She places her novel under the bed._

"_Filing work. Can't be helped, I guess." I smiled and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge and stripping, as she already had, to nothing but my undergarments. "I'm just glad the Skinner's back behind the iron ones. Turned out to be even worse than I thought. Didn't actually skin anyone. But I guess that by definition, he is a skinner; he takes what outside and extracts what's inside, painful..."_

"_Shut up. I don't want to think about that. I just want you to hold me." Motoko said, her body tilted towards me as I slipped between the sheets. As soon as I had, she slipped between my arms. I smiled and kissed her gently, stroking her back._

"_Whatever you want, Motoko." I say quietly before kissing her gently. Or, I try to. She pulls me in quickly and presses into me, hard._

_Hey, her call._

_We're home._

_-Taishu Tsukitai_


End file.
